Triple Veggie Pron Salad
by Ravyns-Darqueness
Summary: Already disillusioned by love at the age of 17, Bella finds humor in movies of seduction and happily ever after. Then she meets the perfect man ... with an imperfection one could have never imagined. Until now ...
1. Chapter 1

******_This is my first FanFic, ever. So, be gentle?_**

******_Oh yes, the characters in this story are fictional. The names aren't mine. They belong to that Stephanie Meyer and Twilight. =)_**

******_Did I do that right? Oh, and thank you ever so much to my most loveable, unexpected beta who took on my insanity at a moment's notice. I love you I'm not name dropping ... yet.  
_**

My name is Isabella. I am the result of the intermingling of DNA from a professional rodeo clown and a former beauty queen. Can you even begin to contemplate how irrationally abnormal my life has been? I guess, perhaps, this is why you suddenly feel compelled to read this document, to figure out why it is that I am the way I am … whatever I am. My friends call me Bella. My father calls me Berry. Should I even share with you which hole in my father's head this one came out of? Later? Yes, later. This is not really why you have asked me to compel my fingers to respond to the rapid firing of synapses in my brain.

So, where was I? I get off track a lot. I usually only realize I have galloped off on a tangent when I see my best friend's eyes staring at me as if the horns everyone assumes I keep well hidden have finally decided to thrust forth from my forehead and reveal the creature inside.

I am not really a different form of creature than my other human High School counterparts. I mean, of course at times I do wonder, but no, really, I am just Isabella. I am a girl who was truly denied any chance of rebelling against her parents. I mean, how do you rebel against a rodeo clown and a mother who collects tiaras in her free time? So, some say, rebel against the establishment! Of … High School? Truthfully, I am just a wallflower trying to not appear quite so awkward by making herself even more awkward. I am a walking ball of confusion. Mother says that's normal for teenage girls, especially when they are just growing into their bodies and every other girl has had tits for five years.

Did I mention that? I'm what they call a "late bloomer." When the class hottie, Rosalie, first put her goods on display, I thought it would only be a few months before I would have some of my own to bounce about. Alas, I was mistaken. Imagine my surprise when they finally did plump up, only to stop … as bug bites on a struggling ant hill. Dad continued his clown act at home attempting to use my bra as a slingshot. I am fairly sure almost every girl has endured this embarrassing act at one time or another. Maybe not so many at the age of seventeen.

Have I lost you yet?

It all began that year. The year everyone was preparing for college. We were challenged then to ready ourselves for the future. They were pushing us to become doctors, lawyers, dentists, even preachers.

_I was still trying to grasp the art of eyeshadow. _

I was standing at my locker, gazing into the eyes of Jonathan Rhys Meyers and imagining the day we would finally meet, his lips mouthing the words, "_What's up, skank_?"

No, that was not what he said to me in my fantasy; it was just my endearing best friend, Alice, sneaking up behind me just as Jonathan was to reveal his heart's desire for me. She always knew how to fuck up a wet dream. Good thing I loved her.

"Well hello, whore. How are things, today? You and the boy-toy still leaving scratches on the bedposts while the parents are away?"

"Ah. No. His parents cut their trip short on Saturday. Sent me home with a song in my heart and a _very_ unfulfilled libido. But I do have the most intriguing news for you." She sings her words when she has something juicy to tell me. Of course it is not uncommon for us to sing to each other on a regular basis, anyway. Her blue eyes twinkled at me and suddenly my stomach churned.

"No. _No_! Not another blind date, Alice. No more!"

"Why so glum, sugarplum?" She was enjoying this.

"Alice, the last guy had a hump."

"He did NOT! Stop being stupid."

"He DID! He had a hump and a lame leg that he dragged behind him."

"Oh come on, Bella. Did you fall asleep watching _The Hunchback of Notre Dame_ again?"

"No, seriously. He spit on me when he said my name. Every. Time. _Isssss-abelle_." I made my point by allowing a few drops of mouth-slime to spurt from my lips.

"You are insanely disgusting and you worry me."

"Good. So why keep sending me out on blind dates that you know will only end in embarrassment and yet another tale of woe for your most wonderful best friend?"

"You really need to stop watching so many movies, Bell. They're rotting your brain."

"This coming from my queen of pop culture. By the way, have those two actors come out and admitted they're banging yet? Or are they still denying it?"

"They are still denying it. I still think she bats for the same team though. And will you please stop changing the subject?" I tried to interject, but she knew me enough to know that she needed to keep talking. "Jay's cousin is moving in with them. He's starting school here next week and Jay wants us to meet him beforehand and try to make him feel more comfortable. So, we're eating at their house tomorrow night for dinner. I'll drive you home after school and we'll fancy you up."

"Wait, I haven't even said yes. You don't know how busy I'll be!"

"Yes, yes. So _very_ busy with your friends in that _little virtual world_. Dancing and having so much fun in the _virtual club_, flirting with _virtual boys_."

I hated her sometimes. "When you say it like that, it sounds so pathetic."

"It is, which is why I'm not giving you a choice missy."

"I can fancy myself up, thank you very much!"

"Honey, please. You would forget to put eyeliner on BOTH of your eyes if it weren't for me. I'll call you tonight and we can talk about it more. Right now …" Her voice trailed off and I knew I was now just a figment of her imagination.

I turned around to see Jay gliding up the hallway. As much as I hated the male species, I loved Jay. He was just a few months older than me, but always treated me like his little sister. I wish I _were_ his sister. Rosalie was his twin and was well endowed from the tip of her precious head to the ends of her perfectly manicured toes. Her cleavage was always the featured actor in whatever story her clothing chose to tell that day. Jay and Rose were both blessed with golden blonde hair that even the gods were jealous of. And as blessed as she was above, it was rumored so was he below.

This could be why I call their mother Athena and father Zeus, but I would never admit it to a soul.

"Hi, Bell!" My body was off the ground and in Jay's arms. The guy gave great hug and I laughed at my personal joke, quickly pushing away from him. "She laughs!"

"Shut it, turd breath! I did no such thing. And if you tell anyone I will … do something you hate!"

He snickered at me. I hated that snicker. He accepted my challenge and I lost.

I hate boys.


	2. Chapter 2

The day came and went without anything too eventful. Of course, it was hard to find anything truly out of the ordinary when it came to High School. Everyone was already overly dramatic worrying about life, the future, parents, and romance. At the time, I hated that word. I was sure there was no one out there for me and I would simply become an insanely rich spinster who hid all her money in mason jars, cemented into the walls; and came home each day to a wide array of cats mewing to their hearts content and defecating on everything in sight.

Luckily, I would have a maid.

In all honesty, I had not truly been thinking about college, or _any_ kind of future for that matter. I didn't really live each day as if it were my last, but I never understood making huge plans for the future when it could all come crashing down at any minute.

Alice was notorious for trying to hook me up with dates. I was unsure whether she truly wanted me to have a boyfriend, or if it was more _Jay_ who wanted me to have someone, so I would spend less time talking to his girlfriend. I had, indeed, disrupted a few intimate moments between the two with random texting...

But the girl _needed_ to know about the spirit living in my basement!

What if it had murdered me in my sleep? If I had waited to bestow on her such details of this spirit's demeanor and lackadaisical approach to fashion, they would be forever searching for my murderer, and never be able to have closure on the horrific murder of the rodeo clown's daughter.

...Did that sound quite as lame coming from my lips as I believe it did?

Dates, that is where we were.

So perhaps I should take a moment to explain why I was so horribly fearful of once again being set up on another blind date. For the record, reliving the worst date of my life really does not help my current emotional state, but you said to pour my heart out, so that is what I intend to do, for better or worse.

The last guy really did not have a hump, nor a lame leg. He did, however, hiss my name. When the 's' slipped from his terribly dry and chapped lips, it was as if he were a snake and I was his prey … and the spittle collecting at the corners of his mouth was his venom. I swore at that very moment, if the venom touched me, I would convulse and fall to the floor.

Interestingly enough, it did not take that long. He leaned over and planted a kiss on the back of my hand as I sat there eating my manicotti. At first I was in shock. I was stuffing noodle, cheese, and meat sauce in my mouth and he was suddenly on my hand, slobbering and licking.

I did not fall to the floor, but I did promptly request the check.

That was a mistake.

Mr. Slither hopped to the assumption that I was eager to drag him home and allow him to spit and slobber all over my naked, writhing body. As he grinned and leaned forward, he hissed, "I want to be your manicotti."

That was it.

I lost every bite I had taken right into the bread basket.

My body shook and convulsed.

Somewhere in the distance I heard a wolf howl.

The lady in the corner screamed, "I'm a nurse!"

Someone had my hand, my eyes fluttered, everything went black.

Yeah, that last part was a lie.

There was no wolf, no nurse, no blackness, just regurgitated manicotti and a disappointed Mr. Slither. I told him I must have had a reaction to the cheese and asked him to drive me home. I texted my father in our secret language that let him know he was allowed to meet me at the door in his clown makeup. That always seemed to help get rid of the weirdos, and it did not fail that time around, either.

Slither walked me to the door, my father answered in full rodeo garb, and his arm suddenly dropped to his side.

"So _this_ is your date Bell? Well he's a mighty fine lookin' boy. Why doncha come in and take a load off. Don't mind my facepaint, I've been at war."

Slither looked down at his phone. Funny, I had not heard it ring, "Oh geez Mr. Swan sir, I would love to, but looks like my mom is calling. Guess I'm running a little late getting home."

His awkward teeter-tottering told me what I had already suspected: he an interesting little fear of clowns.

He stepped off the front porch and darted for his little blue Chevy. As the door closed, I thought I heard, "Call ya later Bella!"

My phone never rang.

The call I made to the phone company probably had something to do with that.

… I wonder how many numbers we now have on the call block list.


End file.
